


Kuebiko

by fuzzypicklesss



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, dreamnotfound - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Blood and Gore, Comedy, M/M, Manipulation, Minecraft but everyone is a god and a dick, Past Child Abuse, Smut, This is a change from my last book, darker themes, myboyishurt, still smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:55:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28871901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzypicklesss/pseuds/fuzzypicklesss
Summary: Abused and abandoned, the god of chaos and destruction wanders the world and wreaks havoc. He meets a witty yet troubled traveler, and they soon exploit each other for their own needs.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Restricted Work] by [tbhyourelame](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tbhyourelame/pseuds/tbhyourelame). Log in to view. 



> Hello! I kind of like the idea of gods and stuff. i'm gonna be experimenting with multiple short stories :) Also this doesn't have a certain time period, and this isn't about the real people it's about the minecraft characters. but in an au ofc.

Anger and hurt boils in his gut.

Black tears well in his eyes, blurring his vision. 

_Why?_ He wonders, staring at the darkening sky. _Why do they do this to me?_

He can feel the disdain from the others, the utter disgust they feel to him. 

But why? He never chose to be like this. In fact, they had _forced_ and _tricked_ him. He was fooled by their silver tongues and magic words, just so they could make a fool of him and cast him away without a glance. 

He let's the ink black tears flow, wincing as it sinks into his skin and makes his face steam. He stares into the sky for days, maybe even weeks in that field of tall green grass where they left him. 

He comes to a slow decision, his eyes slowly losing their bright glimmer, his grin fading from his face as he glared at the sky.

_I'll give them what they want. I'll give them what they fucking deserve._

So he stands up, his legs shaky and aching from the neglect. He's not sure how long he sat there, but when he stands again he steps into the role they pushed him in. He takes a deep breath, and begins to walk to the nearest town, malice leaking off of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The god hopes to cause chaos in a town, only to find it war-torn. He recognizes the path of destruction and follows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me again! This chapter will be a little violent, just a warning! Mans is unhinged a bit lol.

A pair of green eyes look at the village below him, his brows furrowing in annoyance.

"What the hell?" He murmurs to himself. The village is half empty, with sick looking women and feeble children. He sees no males to whisper to, no warriors to entice. Just weak women and children. 

He grips his dark green cloak, eyes narrowing as he notices blood splatters on a dirt path leading to nearby hills. Glancing at the lack of males and weapons, he sneers and makes his way to the hills. Following the trail of blood and soon broken weapons and bodies, he sees a massive graveyard of death. He walks around the hills to get a better views and sees survivors dragging the bodies in separate piles, and trying to help the wounded.

He sees a man with his arm cut off, thrashing as someone wraps it in cloth, trying to stop the bleeding. _No use._ He thinks to himself. _He'll die by nightfall._

Not that he feels bad.

He never does.

As he looks closer, the piles are separated by the armor flag color hanging at their waist; one pile is a blood red color, the same color as the survivors, and the other pile is a deep purple.

_A war, huh?_

He observes the sight for awhile, sitting down and looking through the invisible holes in his blindfold, plotting.

"What are you doing here?" A deep voice asks from behind him.

"If it isn't the Blood God himself, Technoblade." He says bitterly. He has no resentment towards his fellow outcast, but it's hard to feel any positive emotions.

He almost smirks. "This was under your influence, I'm guessing?" He stands and turns to the man behind him.

Or, rather, the _god._

The other god doesn't respond.

The God of War wore a frown under the infamous hog skull. He wore his old king attire, even after all these years, of a red gown draped over a white blouse and brown trousers that are tucked into boots. He has multiple weapons strapped to him, knives, swords and crossbows. There is a dull crown on his head and a broken gold compass around his neck. 

"Dream," Technoblade says lowly, "what are you doing here?"

Dream only grins as he takes off the black blindfold, holding it in a bandaged hand and pushes his hood back with the other hand. "I only followed the trail of blood. What happened?" The question was asked from genuine curiousity. 

Technoblade only sighs, taking off the hog skull, which was attached to a strap that clips under his strange pink hair that falls over his shoulders. Glowing red eyes meet his.

"I had come here to trade for food, but I stayed for too long." He says curtly, looking away.

"And you had attracted a nearby group of warriors, causing them to battle." Dream could only imagine the eyes covered with a veil of red bloodlust, their hands gripping their swords and spears as they charge into battle, the cries of women and children as they hid, the screams of dying soldiers.

"I can see everything you're thinking, you sick bastard." Though the words have a sharp edge to it, Dream knows it's nothing deep.

Dream shrugs, grinning even wider. The sight of the sneer like smile makes people shiver, yet Techno doesn't care.

Techno never cares.

"Any villages nearby?" Dream asks, his voice hopeful. 

Techno eyes him, and after a bit he finally shakes his head. "4 miles south. Don't do anything crazy, you don't want to upset the others too much." He warns, his eyes glinting. "They're getting fed up."

Dream gives his friend a sharp look, his pupils dilating and covering his entire glowing iris. "Fuck if I care. This is their fault, if they have a problem they can come to me." He puts his blindfold on in sharp movements, his nerves brimming with anger. 

Techno watches his friend, sighing quietly. His friend puts on his usual blindfold and pulls his hood up, his face dark. "I'll see you around, Techno."

Techno only nods, slipping on his mask and turning away.

Dream makes his way south, anger clouding his mind, begging to be released. 

-

He wanders down the path, hands hidden in his dark cloak. He hopes that a carriage would pass by so he could cause some trouble, but no such thing happened... The road was empty.

Within a few miles, Dream sees the outline of a town, and he smiles. He toys with the hilt of his obsidian dagger, pondering on what he should do. Maybe cause an affair, set the whole town on fire, give someone an eternal nightmare, the possibilities are endless but oh so amusing. 

He makes his way into town, raising a brow when he sees people in the streets with kites and food, the lanterns on the vendors all lit up. The streets are filled with joy, and the smell makes him cringe as he pushes past people, making his way to the bar he seees.

Dream walks in, looking for an empty table to sit at, so he could listen. He stands taller than a majority of people, so it's not that hard. He settles in, sitting back as he waits for someone to come to him.

"Hello. What would you like?" The server looks down at him, confusion flashing in her eyes as she sees the blindfold.

"Strongest liquor you have." He grabs a few coins from his pouch, handing it to her and giving her a grin. She bows to him, and turns to get his drink. He turns back to the table, tracing patterns in the table.

"Did you hear about the battle a few miles away?"

Dream perks up and listens in on the conversation behind him.

"No, what happened?"

"Well," A man takes a gulp of liquor. "There was a battle between a small town and a group of warriors passing by, and I heard that the warriors just attcked the town out of nowhere! They slaughtered the men of the town, leaving few survivors."

"Oh my gods. That's horrible." A women sighs, probably rubbing a temple.

"Damn right. It might have been that cursed god of war, that bloody god never stops, does he?" Another man growls, banging his cup against the table. 

Dream smirks, shaking his head. The girl slid a few mugs of rum over to his table, walking away to another to serve him. He downs half the cup, wiping his mouth and continuing to listen.

"Why haven't the other gods just killed him? He's such a nuisance to everyone." The woman grumbles.

"They would have if they could, I heard that the Blade wiped all of them out once when they tried." The first man says, his voice dragging as he exaggerates the story. Dream rolls his eyes.

"Only because that damned god of chaos was at his side. Nobody has seen him for years, so without him, the Blade will fall." The second man says, a smile in his voice.

Dream narrows his eyes, clenching a fist around his cup.

True, he had fought by Techno's side when the other gods had exiled them, but Techno could definitely hold his own. 

"I'm glad that bastard hasn't shown his face. The gods were merciful and exiled him after he laid waste to the Heavens! And to pay them back, he goes around and kills and tortures innocent people! I hope he burns in the 6 layers of the Underworld." The first man curses, slamming his cup on the table. 

Anger wells up inside of him.

_Fucking fools. That's not even how the story goes. I did nothing wrong, foolish mortals, believing everything you hear._

Dream stands up, walking to the table of gossipers behind him. They watch him, their eyes narrowed. There are two men, one fat and hairy while the other one is lean and pale. The woman is plump with a horrendous amount of make up to cover her aging face.

"Threatening gods, are we?" Dream grins, leaning over on the table. 

The fat man turns red. "And so what of it?! That bastard has done everything bad that you can think of! Who the hell are you to tell me what not to do!" This is the first man who cursed at him.

Dream smirks. "Glad you asked." He takes off his blindfold and tucks it in his armor, staring into the man with his glowing lime green eyes. 

The man paled, dropping his drink, and the other two cowered away from him.

A common feature in gods were their glowing eyes. Dream doesn't always want to be recognized as one, so he wears a blindfold to conceal it.

"I'm the fucking god of Chaos." He whispers, pulling out his knife and nearing the man. The other people in the bar haven't noticed their table and continued to go about their night, drinking and singing.

"I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-" The fat man rambled, eyeing the dagger.

Dream grins eye to eye as he presses the sharp blade against his neck, leaning in close. "Don't lie. You meant every word you said." He chuckles, but the woman begins to whimper of fear.

The sound annoys him, so he flings the knife at her, impaling her through the throat. She lets out a scream that becomes gurgled from her blood. The other two men at the table scream as well, and soon the whole bar is screaming and trying to tackle Dream. 

But he reaches behind him and grabs his netherite sword, swinging and slicing the nearest people in half. The rest scream and back up, but the two men at the table are staring at the now dead woman, their faces pale. Dream yanks the weapon from her throat, watching the fat man. The fat man trembles in fear, opening his mouth.

"I-I have a family, please have mercy-"

Dream leaps at him, impaling him through the mouth with his sword, causing a strangled scream. "I'll kill them too." He whispers. He watches as the light dies out of those eyes, the man's body convulsing. He yanks the sword out, the loud squelch making him laugh as blood squirts on him, screams echoing in the back. He turns to the last man, smiling as he leaps for him, grabbing him by his hair.

"Mercy! Mercy, please!" The man begs.

Dream just smiles as he raises his arm and hacks at the man's throat, purposely missing the same spot with his blade, tearing new rips into the soft flesh. He can hear people in the back call for the guards as he decapitates the screaming man, but all he does is laugh.

"Come on humans, show me what you're worth! Show me that hatred you have for me!" He screams, waving the bloody head around as he walks out of the tavern. He sees a woman screaming, and throws the severed head at her and she screams. 

Dream laughs manically as he lets the aura of chaos drip off of him and bleed onto the streets. He sees a wave of guards charging at him, and he laughs in delight and begins to slice through them with his sword. Blood soaks into his cloak so he throws it off, revealing his netherite armor and potions. He throws potions of acid at the guards, laughing in joy as they scream and melt. He hits lanterns onto the floor and throws them into houses, catching them on fire while slicing down every person in this wretched town.

As the sun rises the following day, he looks at the corpses and burnt down houses, the smell of rotting flesh burning his nostrils. 

The black aura of chaos is thick in the city like fog. He smiles at the sight, putting on his bandana and turning around to find a river. He walks into the nearby woods, listening for the sound of water. He hears is eventually and walks quicker. Yeah, he enjoys slaughter, but he doesn't like the sticky feeling of blood coating him. 

Dream breaks through the bushes, taking off his armor as he makes his way to the river. The water is cold, but he begins scrubbing at his body, watching as the dark blood washes off his tan skin. He washes the blindfold, but the black cloth is barely stained. He puts it back on and looks up at the sky.

It's been a few centuries since he was appointed as the God of Chaos.

He didn't know what he was getting into, nobody had told him. 

And they whispered falsehoods into the ears of those gullible humans, who only twisted the rumors and made him worse. 

Gods survive on rumors and worship. 

And obviously, there were _many_ bad rumors and tales about him, and it twisted his mind as a person, and his worshippers didn't make anything better. So of course he would be a morally terrible person, but it wasn't his fault. 

_Not at first, at least._

Dream opened his eyes and looked straight ahead, making eye contact with dark, startled eyes. They don't see his though, so they don't know who he is.

"Are you peeping?" He asks, making the man glare at him. He's a head shorter than him with dark brown hair and empty eyes.

"Why would I?" The man has a funny accent, and it makes Dream raise an eyebrow.

The man sets his gear down, touching the water. Dream watches as he pulls back, frowning deeply. "It's so cold."

Ah.

That's where the man was from. He was from that horrible country that always stole land. The other gods of course praised them, but Dream had never been fond of the British, especially since they despise him with a passion.

"What's your name?" Dream asks, running a hand through his wet hair. 

The man shoots him a dirty look. "Does it matter? It's not like we'll meet again."

Dream just laughs bitterly, turning around. "I'm Dream."

"Why Dream? Did you name yourself?" The man asks from behind, curiosity in his voice.

One thing about mortals, is they tend to forget your actual name if they hate you for long enough. His real name has been long forgotten, not even he remembers it. The mortals have been calling him just the Chaos God, a monster, a demon, everything of the like, but not _Dream._

Not anymore.

The only ones who use it are the gods and his nymph friend.

"Yup." He responds simply. He sits on a rock that is in the sun, grabbing his shirt to throw over his private area. He doesn't care for nudity, but he knows humans do. 

"George."

Dream looks up, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

The man looks at him blankly. "My name is George."

Dream observes the human infront of him.

George has a dark aura around him, as if he's guilty or filled with anger... it's hard to read, unlike most humans. So this, of course, intrigues Dream.

He gives a charming smile, hiding his dark intentions. "Nice to meet you, George."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, this story will have a lot of angst and I cant promise a 100% happy ending. So do you guys want this to be a whole story or like a short story of like 5-7 chapters? It doesnt matter to me, I just wanna know if yall are interested.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is intrigued by George's mysterious nature, so he follows him around, much to the travelers dismay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyoooo hope you guys are enjoying so far. if i say bandana or headband at any point of this series i mean blindfold. idk why my brain mixes those up. Also I'd like to say that this book has dark themes such as mention of rape, suicide and stuff like that. Just a trigger warning.

Dream leans his head back and absorbs the sun as George bathes. He hears splashing water and George shivering, and he smiles.

"Why do you have a blindfold on? Are you blind?" George asks after awhile.

Dream shakes his head and grins. "No. I can see through this bandana, it was specially crafted for me by a friend. But I wear it cause of a preference. Is it odd?" He looks over to see George slipping on his underclothes, the fabric sticking to his skinny wet limbs. 

"Yeah it is." He stands in the sun and rubs his arms, looking at Dream's blindfold. A strange emotion passes over his face before he looks at his armor. "Is that blood?"

Dream follows his gaze. "Yeah. I should probably clean that." He stands up, grabs his armor and clothes and begins washing them in the cold water. The dark blood flows down the river.

He hears a gasp. "Is that netherite armor?" 

He looks up at George, who is standing at the edge of the river and staring at his armor. 

Dream nods. "Yup. It was given to me years ago, and it's still in prime condition."

He remembers the day Techno had given him the armor. They had been preparing to fight a war that might last decades against the gods who hated them the most. 

He was still a young god, not old enough to harbor the amount of resentment that he holds now. 

"Why do they hate us so much?" He asked the god of war. 

Technoblade had paused from sharpening his sword. He sighed softly, rubbing the compass on his chest. "They hate us because we are powerful, because we are gods of destruction, and they fear that."

"So then why did they make us gods if they hated us so much?" Dream could feel the anger settle in his stomach. 

"Gods aren't the fair individuals you grew up learning them to be. They're twisted and malicious, killing anyone who doesn't align with their agenda." Techno had gotten up and opened his wardrobe, reaching in deep and getting something that clanked. Dream's eyes widened as he brought out netherite armor.

"Woah." Was all he could say.

"This is for you. It should last for centuries if you care for it properly." Techno smiled at him, his scarred face showing some type of affection.

Dream brings himself back to the present, brushing off the memory.

"Nobody has stolen it yet?" George asks, nearing his armor.

Dream raises his eyebrows and shows George his weapons that he hid by the rocks to the side. "No, I'd kill them."

The man's eyes widen as he kneels and examines his weapons. There's a crossbow with designs engraved into it, his 2 obsidian knives, netherite sword that seemed to glow, and a few potions.

"Woah. This is alot. You always carry these?" He asks, touching the sword and flinching when it cuts him. He gasps. "This blade is cursed."

Dream raises his eyebrows, slipping on his trousers and kneeling by George. He hasn't had such casual conversation like this in a few decades. It puts him on edge.

"How did you know?" He asks, beginning to strap on his armor. 

"It glows and lets out hostile energy. Why is it like this? Who are you and why do you have such high grade weapons and materials?" George stands up and narrows his eyes, stepping away from Dream.

_There it is._

A flicker of disappointment flares up in Dream's gut, and he isn't sure why.

But he just grins. "Just a bounty hunter, favored by the gods." 

"Ah." George stays where he is and watches Dream tuck his weapons and potions in his armor.

He sighs as he catches himself looking around for his cloak, realizing he had discarded it while massacring the village. He hears footsteps and looks over at George, seeing him walk away and into the trees. He follows him, staying behind as he makes his way to the other side of the trees, and onto the side of a road. There is a small carriage with a horse, and George is tending to it. 

"Is this yours?" Dream asks, nearing it. 

George whips around, a hand on an iron dagger. Dream raises a brow as George glares at him. "Why are you following me?"

He shrugs. "Can I have a ride? Where are you going?"

"The fuck? No you can't have a ride, and I'm not telling you where I'm going." He snarls.

Usually, Dream would have slit his throat and thrown his body in the river, following the dark urges. But this time, there is none, and it surprises him. So he decides to go along with whatever this is. 

"Oh, come on." He slurs his voice and gives a half grin. This makes George pause, a light blush spreading across his face. "I just need a ride to Garrin. I know it isn't far, I just came from there but I'm too tired to walk back."

"What's in it for me?" George crosses his arms.

"I'll be your body guard." Dream doesn't know why he said that. Why would he go to such lengths to protect a _mortal?_ But he can't seem to stop himself. "You've seen what I have, and I know these roads are dangerous. A small traveler like you can be robbed and killed within minutes." He recalls the burglars on his way to the town Technoblade had possessed on accident who tried to rob him. They ended up being torn to pieces and fed to the wolves.

George pursed his lips, turning to his horse. Dream opened his mouth slightly, whispering in the language of the gods and into George's ear. He can tell that by persuading George to let him follow is making his eyes glow through the blindfold as a result from him using magic. But he doesn't care. He makes George think it's his idea for letting Dream stay, and when Dream has George in his clutches, he closes his mouth and the glow dies down.

George turns around, blinking. "Okay. You can stay. As long as you stay with me, you will defend me from anyone, and I will take you to wherever you need me to take you. Good?"

Dream grins. "I am in your service." 

The short man rolls his eyes. "Get in from the back." 

Dream nods, whistling as he gets onto the carriage, stepping over the doors and ducking under the top cover. There's a few clusters of straw, along with a bag filled with wool and a blanket made from the hides of animals. It's probably where George sleeps. He settles in on the makeshift bed, looking around. There's bins with clothes, food, cannisters of water and some scrolls and books.

"It's quite comfy back here." He calls out.

"Shut it." George snaps, making Dream snicker. He sits back with a frown, crossing his arms.

He hasn't travelled with a companion like this in 200 years. He's lived a lonely life since becoming a god. He forgot what it was like before godhood, who his friends were, if he had siblings, parents... he forgot all of that. He doesn't know when or why, everything just faded from his mind before he stumbled across Technoblade's cottage.

Dream looks at the back of George's head, trying to summon any evil intent for him; usually it's easy and he doesn't have to, but for George there isn't any. 

He wonders why.

There's an odd feeling in his gut that he can't place. But he shrugs and closes his eyes, leaning his head back yet staying alert.

-

After awhile of silence, the carriage stops and Dream opens his eyes. They're on the side of the road, and George is petting his horse while it drinks water and eats some grass. George looks back at Dream, raising an eyebrow. "You're awake."

"I was never asleep." He jumps out of the carriage, stretching his sore limbs. He sees George roll his eyes and sit down in the shade of a nearby tree. The grass all around them is green and soft, the land stretching out in hundreds of miles of fields. 

He hates fields. 

He was thrown in a field shortly after becoming a god, an experience he wanted to forget but knows he never could.

Dream looks away from he fields, feeling bare without his cloak. Once he gets to Garrin he'll get a new one, one that is enchanted and more resistant to blood and tears. 

"Why do you need to go to Garrin?" George asks him.

Dream looks down at him. "I had a cloak, but discarded it because it was soaked in blood. So I'm getting a new one."

George frowns, a disgusted look passing across is face. "From a bounty, I'm guessing?"

"You can say that." Dream smirks, hearing the screams and tears of flesh echo in his brain.

"You're sick." George scoffs.

Dream narrows his eyes, putting a hand on his dagger, turning to George. George follows his hand but remains unfazed, meeting his eyes. "You're quite bold for someone who is unarmed."

"Who's to say I'm unarmed?" George raised a brow and smirked.

He lets out a low chuckle. "Just because you're my ride, doesn't mean I won't kill you."

George just shrugs, leaning back and keeping eye contact. "You'd be doing me a favor."

Dream only smiles, not caring what that means. But he studies George's eyes, noticing something odd. He walks to George and pulls his face closer to him, examining his eyes.

"What the fuck? Let me go-"

"Shut up." Dream silences him.

Dream stares for a little longer and then lets out a laugh. George's eyes were discolored, his vision impaired. "What?" George asks, his voice sharp but face red.

"You're colorblind, right?" Dream kneels down, resting his arms on his knees. 

George narrows his eyes, glaring at Dream. His hand twitches and that only makes Dream laugh louder. 

"You were cursed, yes? That's how you know about my blade; only cursed people can recognize cursed things." Dream leans forward, trying to look at George's faded eyes.

"It's not your fucking business. Are you always this rude? I'm starting to regret this." George stands up, pushing past Dream and jumping in the front of the carriage. "Get in the back."

Dream laughs, jumping in the back and swaying as the horse begins to trot. 

"How did you know?" George asks quietly. 

Dream hums, sharpening his knives. "Well, I saw it. Your eyes are brown, yes, but they're a gray brown if it makes sense. That trait is only found in colorblind people, not too visible to regular... people."

"And you aren't regular?"

Dream scoffs. "I have a cursed blade and netherite armor, do you think that I'm normal?"

"Good point. You said only cursed people recognize cursed things. Does that mean you're cursed too?"

He pauses, seeing the reflection of his blindfold in the sword. "Yes."

George just laughs. "What a coincidence."

Dream looks at the back of George's head, pulling out his knife. "Yeah." He raises it, and points it at the back of his neck, his hand on the blade.

 _Kill him._ He thinks to himself. He tried to pour every ounce of resentful energy into his arm so he could _kill_ but he can't.

He can't.

He lowers his hand, sheathing his dagger. He leans his head back in confusion.

"Why do you wear a blindfold? You haven't taken it off once." George calls back. "You were being nosey so I'm being nosey too."

Dream rubs a protruding scar on his hand, thinking. He doesn't want to reveal his godhood just yet, so... 

"I am partially blind, from a scar that goes across my eyes." Dream says, his voice smooth as he looks over at the mortal. "And I don't like it."

It isn't the truth, no, but it isn't a lie either. He _does_ have a scar going across his eyes, and it had blinded him when he was a mortal, but when he had become a god, most fatal scars had left along with his mortality.

"Then is your blindfold enchanted? Since usually you wear those to not see things." George's accent wavers a bit, making Dream raise an eyebrow.

"Yes. It was made by the same person who made my cloak." 

"Ah."

And that was that. He listened to the soft clops of the horse's hooves, smoothing back his hair as sweat drips down his temple from the heat in the back. 

After awhile of silence, Dream sits up when he hears a group of people walking towards them. He sees George tense as he takes in the group.

They are wearing all black, armed with thin swords with black paint on their faces. The man in the front rides a black horse, pulling a few chained people behind him. The group occasionally swats at the chained people, who appear to be women, laughing and howling. 

"They don't seem to be the good lot." George mutters, reaching back and lifting a slab of wood to reveal a silver dagger.

"No they do not." Dream sits up, preparing for possible combat. "Just keep going, if they pose any danger, I'll deal with them."

"Alright." George says through a clenched jaw. "You better not let me down."

Dream just snorts. 

He looks at the chained women, a spark of rage going through him. He may be a god of chaos and a murderer, but he doesn't like to see abused women. When he's in a normal mood, he doesn't mind women and children, he is just wary of men. And he knows that he had younger siblings when he was a mortal, he can't remember their faces, just remembers feeling warmth from an older one and love for his younger ones. The women who are being chained seem to be around adulthood, from 18 to 21. Their eyes are empty and their limited clothing is dirty, sweaty, and ripped, revealing their chests and most of their body. 

As the group gets closer, Dream can see the group better, and counts around 15 men, which isn't bad. He moves closer to George who is staring straight ahead, not giving one look to the group of bandits. 

But Dream sees the malice as they look George up and down, the interest in his small frame and attractive face. He can smell the bad intent and the desire they have for the mortal, and he can see what they would have done to him if he wasn't there.

"Hey, traveler." One calls out, his accent thick and warbled. Other bandits catcall and woo George, who ignores them as his jaw muscles twitch. 

"We're talking to you." Another one shouts, throwing a piece of fruit at the carriage, making the horse shuffle nervously. The group of bandits reach the front of the carriage, creating a wall infront of the road and making the horse stop and rear it's head back.

"I'm just on my way, no harm intended." George's voice is soft, only intriguing the bastards even more. 

They begin to look around and at the leader on the horse, who is smirking at George. His eyes then flicker behind George and he sees Dream, his smirk faltering for a split second.

"We are on our way, please move." Dream says, adding a sharp edge to his voice. He can hear George's heartbeat increase, his eyelashes fluttering. 

"Why don't you two spend some time with us? We have some women at our disposal as well." The leader says, his teeth yellow as he grins. A bandit yanks a chain, dragging them into view, and one looks at Dream, her eyes pleading. "They're nice and tight, won't disappoint."

"No. Now please let us be on our way," George calls out, the grip on the reins tightening. "We have no interest in your twisted ways." Dream hooks on the belt of potions and poison dust, sighing to himself.

The bandit leader narrows his eyes, and the women shift nervously. "Twisted ways, you say?"

"The raping and kidnapping." Dream sighs, jumping out the front of the carriage. The bandits jump back as they take in his armor and weapons. "Now let us through before I kill you all."

This makes the group burst out laughing.

"We only want to have a good time. With him." The bandit unsheathes a knife and points it at George with an evil glint in his eye. "That is it. We'll trade him for one of these women." They gesture to the women again, and Dream's lip twitches in agitation.

"Alright then." He sighs, and he hears George protest. But he ignores him and unsheathes his sword, and looks at the woman who was begging for help. He nodded, and he could see tears well in her eyes. The bandits take their weapons out too, but Dream was already striking. 

He had sliced the arm off of the person holding the chained women, shoving them back. "Get to the back of that carriage." He tells them, stepping infront of them as the man screams and they run to the back, George following them.

He leaps into action again, killing the man he injured and slicing a few people in half with his sword right after. There's screams and grunts of fury as they close in on him, the leader stepping back and watching. Dream takes out a potion, uncorking it with his teeth and throwing the fragile glass bottle at the ground, making it explode poison. The people near it screamed as they inhale the poison, coughing up blood as Dream slices through the other bandits.

Dream almost laughs as he throws a knife into an eye, slitting someone's throat and decapitating another. The screams make blood rush through his ears as he grows excited, breathing hard as he plows through the whole group. Soon, he is covered in blood and surrounded by moans of pain and dying men. He faces the bandit leader, who had tied his horse to a nearby fence and was facing Dream, his hands clenched. 

"Do you still think that offer was a good idea?" Dream asks softly. He can hear George whispering to the women, giving them clothes and food. 

The Bandit leader just stares at him, drawing a sword. "Who are you?"

Dream just smiles and runs to him, stabbing him through the chest. The bandit yells in pain, coughing up blood as Dream shoves him to the ground, pushing the sword deeper into his chest with one hand while lifting his blindfold with another.

The man sees his glowing eyes and begins to scream, knowing his fate and cowering in fear.

"I'm sorry! Forgive me, I'll stop and mend my ways, I-"

Dream ripped the sword out and swiped it across the guys mouth, smiling and watching as he gurgles blood and spasms in pain. The sounds are horrible as he dies and bleeds out, his eyes filled with fear. 

And Dream slips on his bandana, flicking a blood clot off of his hand as he turns around. He steps over distorted bodies as he walks back to the carriage, a smile on his face. He soon ends up in the back, watching George usher the last girl in, closing the doors. The women look at him in both admiration and fear as they look back to the dead bodies. George turns to him and jumps after seeing his bloody appearance.

"What-"

"The situation is dealt with. We're taking them with us?" Dream gestures to the guests.

George nods. "Yes."

"We were taken from Garrin a week ago, and those bandits have been assaulting us every night and morning since then. We thank you for saving us." The oldest one speaks, clenching the blouse around herself, nodding in respect to Dream and George. She has red hair with blue eyes and freckles, a determined glint in her eye. She sits in front of the youngest looking one, protecting her from harm.

He looks at the other 4 women who avoid his gaze but nod with her, smiling weakly. 

"Don't mention it. We're on our way there, and you girls can go back to your families." George says, smiling at them. He walks to the front, dragging Dream with him.

"Why can't I sit in the back?" Dream asks. 

George gives him an exasperated look. "They were just raped and beat for a week, let's give them time to relax without any men around. Then-" George falters as he looks at the road littered with bodies ahead of them. "Did you...?"

"Kill them all? Yes." Dream sniffs.

George looks at the bloodshed. "Why so brutal?"

"You would have been chained, raped, and beaten just like those women. I may be a sick person and a murderer but I don't stand for shit like that." Dream says, his voice low. He's always had a resentment for those kinds of things, and always killed those who enact them.

George looks at him. "How did you know?"

Dream snorts. "You're attractive, and I could tell what they wanted to do with you. I saw it on their faces."

Dream sees him shiver, looking away. "We should get going." He climbs to the front, grabbing ahold of the reins. Dream walks over to the black tied up horse, kicking the body of the bandit leader and snorting. He climbs on it and trots towards George, who is looking at him with a blank face.

"A war trophy." Dream says, and George just rolls his eyes. 

They begin walking to Garrin, a more comfortable atmosphere between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Hope whoever is reading this is enjoying this. I like the idea for this story so I enjoy writing it :)

**Author's Note:**

> I will also add other people from the smp in this! I'm not sure how far this will go but it will be a short story :)


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